


Curfew

by orphan_account



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Pre-Femslash, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 13:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3136838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie really does worry about Peggy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curfew

**Author's Note:**

> It seems that I'm unable to watch any show without having queer headcanons/ships. Oh dear.

　　She closes the door as gently as possible and pulls the cord on the lamp. 

　　‘Peggy?’ She turns at her name and glances at the bed where Angie is lying.‘You’re back.’ Angie’s eyes blink open dozily, adjusting to the light.

　　‘You know, if you keep staying in here past curfew the neighbours will start to talk.’

　　It’s intended as a joke, but Angie furtively glances away, colour rising to her ears. Deciding not to comment, Peggy notes the reaction for contemplation on another day. She sheds her jacket and hooks it on the coat-hanger.

　　Angie sits up and swings her legs over the side of the bed. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t be in here so often if you ever came back before curfew, and if you didn’t drop out of our plans at the last minute.’

　　Peggy pauses, turning to face Angie. Her tone is not accusatory, but she still feels a stone of guilt drop in her stomach. ‘We were going out,’ she says. She hadn’t forgotten, but the day, like so many others, had taken an unexpected turn, and their plans had fallen to the back of her mind. Could she be blamed for prioritising the fate of the city over a night out?

　　‘Angie, I’m sorry.’ Peggy takes the space next to Angie, offering a reassuring smile.

　　‘Don’t worry about it, English, I get it: you’re a working gal.’ Peggy smiles in response. ‘That doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you, though.’

　　Looking down, Peggy responds, ‘You don’t need to worry about me, Angie. I can look after myself.’

　　‘Are you sure about that? Most nights you don’t even come back,’ her voice is raised slightly, but not enough to disturb their house-mates, ‘And when you do, you’ve got some mysterious limp or a cut or a bruise or-’

　　‘Angie,’ Peggy does her best to maintain eye-contact, ‘If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone?’ Angie nods vigorously, leaning forward slightly, ‘The truth is: I’m a very clumsy person.’ Her serious face breaks into a wide grin. Angie rolls her eyes, and lets herself fall back on the bed.

　　‘Come on, I know that’s not true; I’ve seen the heels you wear.’

　　‘Honestly, that’s the truth.’

　　Angie doesn’t push it any further, for which Peggy is grateful. She has long since grown used to lying to people about her job, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

　　Kicking off her shoes, she lies back with Angie, enjoying the quiet.

　　‘Thank you,’ she says after a while.

　　Angie cranes her head to look at her, turning slightly on her side. ‘For what?’

　　‘For all of this;’ she gestures to the room, before angling her head to face Angie, ‘For being my friend.’

　　The corners of Angie’s mouth stretch millimetres upwards. There’s something else beneath the smile, Peggy can almost see it, but she can’t quite figure it out. Then Angie rolls towards her, and her tongue slips between the crease of her mouth to wet her bottom lip, flashing pink against red, and Peggy understands what’s happening. She takes a second to process it, another to consider pushing it, two seconds of guilt in the shape of Steve Rogers, before she sits up suddenly.

　　‘Can I get you some tea?’ Her voice is level and clear, betraying none of the anxiety that threatens to burn through her chest.

　　‘No, thank you,’ Angie says after a pause, ‘I should probably get back to my room. Like you said, people might talk.’ There is no animosity behind the words, at least, none that Peggy can detect, but she speaks through a false smile. She leaves before Peggy can say any more, throwing a hasty “goodnight” over her shoulder.

　　‘Oh, well done, Peggy, very tactful.’ She lets out a sigh, ‘Bollocks.’


End file.
